Friday, April 30, 2010

worth wading for

Fished. Caught nothing. Even spit on my worm a time or two...the fish were not interested. All was not lost though, the scenery- breathtaking. My camera, ever at my side- utilized considerably.

Dug for treasures in an aged garbage pit...found an awesome rusty Ford hubcap, took it home, added paint and tone and wa-la...made it a landscape ornament. Also among the ruins found after the tide went out- old medicine bottles, a stoneware cottage, rusty bucket, enamel pot and my favorite piece worth wading for- an old "Men's Room" sign .

I am a picker from way back when...poverty proves that anything is possible and just about anything is redeemable if a bit of creativity, elbow grease and sincere questioning of merit of said garbage is asked and honestly answered. Following me here? I dig for junk. I dig junk. Not all in a pile like a hoarder, but in a garden, on a shed side, or maybe in a little shadowed corner of a bathroom that needs something else to speak of it's central character. I figured out way back when, that even though I preferred the drumstick of the chicken, I had brothers who'd stick a fork in the back of my hand should I reach for one. I learned then- to love the wings.

I knew from a very young age that my hand me downs were not only from a contributor two sizes bigger than me but who also had no sense of style...ugly and big clothing was not my cup of tea so I learned to turn the cuff and remove one button from here and replace it there. And probably to most eyes, I still appeared a bit shabby...but to me, by doing so- by making these things to my liking, I became a real making-sunshine-out-of-rain-kind of person. I yearned for things that others had, but for some reason- I would eventually re-direct my energy towards wanting what I got, with a few adaptations. Why am I telling you this? As often happens on this blog- I reveal to the reader which I am only recently discovering of myself. I have often pursued in my life the improbable, sometimes the seemingly impossible...and here as of late, I have had more time to reflect on why I do the things I do and why I did the things I've done.

Have I answered all the questions? Heck no...but I am scratching the surface, peeling the layers, finding the grain- I'm awful big on that stripping stuff. Which leads me back to the original thought of junk. I dig junk because in it's time and even now- it serves a purpose, evolving from it's shiny new day to it's old rusty present decay and yet still- to my eyes, it's function, it's original concept, character...may I say it's grain?! is a thing of beauty when it serves a purpose. It's almost as if I am in-tuned to this stuff- the nature of things. I gravitate towards the shine and shadow. That shiny in it's day Ford hubcap would have probably left very little imprint on me...but to see it's original form affected by shadow- it's surroundings, use and nature's way- a masterpiece is revealed. In a landscape of towering trees and rotting wood below, there that shine and shadow again is revealed in the undergrowth and I wonder, would the flowers there have been as lovely had it not been for the rot that fed their roots?

Just in a pondering mood these days... if you please, what do you think makes up for your personal views? Are you shaped in part by a significant event in your life or by a place- even some kind of object that holds a deeper meaning to you?

6 comments:

Grandpa went on a dump kick for a while. And the things I loved the most, old blue glass bottles. I have Noxzema bottles and I think even Phillips Milk of Magnesium!! But they are treasures b/c they're my favorite shade of blue, and grandpa brought them to me and he's a treasure all his own!!

Bob never ceases to amaze me, even at 70 something he is so cute and open to new discoveries, he is a treasure. The cobalt blue/Noxzema glasses are so pretty, I have them lined up to catch the sun in a South window...TB, knew I'd hook you on the fishing, we went again last evening.

I, myself, am a self-proclaimed junk collector. I'd much rather rack my brain to find a creative use for something rather than throw it out. You should see what I do with ribbon and paperclips! In answer to your question, recently I've been feeling shaped by places... the places I've been, the place I am, and the places I ache to explore anew or for the first time. I'm finding words for my identity these days and I suppose one of them might be "wanderer." But I consider myself a deliberate and accountable one. Thanks for giving me something to think about.